Chapter 14: The Letter
One year after the trial, I received a letter from my father.
It was the first time he had written to me since being sentenced.
I almost threw it away without opening it. But something made me read it.
Inside was a single page, written in his familiar handwriting.
Maya,
I’ve had a lot of time to think since I’ve been in here. I won’t lie to you — part of me is still angry. Angry that you turned on your own family. Angry that you made us look like monsters in front of everyone.
But I’ve also had time to remember things. I remember how you used to follow me around when you were little, asking questions about everything. I remember how smart you were, even as a kid. I remember how your grandmother always said you were special.
I think I was scared of you, in a way. You were different from me and your mother. You didn’t need our approval the way we wanted you to. And instead of trying to understand you, I tried to make you smaller.
I was wrong.
I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t know if I deserve it. But I wanted you to know that I see you now. Even if it’s too late.
Your father,
Richard
I read the letter twice.
Then I folded it and put it away.
I didn’t write back.
But I didn’t throw it away either.
May you like
For the first time, my father had acknowledged that I was more than he had allowed himself to see. It wasn’t an apology. It wasn’t enough to fix everything. But it was something.
And sometimes, something is all you get.
